


This Golden Heart of Mine

by Insert_Valid_Author_Name



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insert_Valid_Author_Name/pseuds/Insert_Valid_Author_Name
Summary: Now on fanfiction.net. In a world where technology had no limits, and scientists had no morals, a planet burned. A century later, a girl burned, and in the process to save her life her parents create an unholy union of flesh and metal. With a failing Ark, and 100 children to take care of, the Black Warrior has plenty on her hands - and that's when she fell in love. !Clexa !AugmentedClarke





	This Golden Heart of Mine

**…ooOoo…**

_DICHOSO el árbol, que es apenas sensitivo,_ _  
__y más la piedra dura porque ésa ya no siente,_ _  
__pues no hay dolor más grande que el dolor de ser vivo_ _  
__ni mayor pesadumbre que la vida consciente._  
(Primer estrofa de “Lo Fatal”, por Rubén Darío)

_PROSPEROUS is the tree that feels little,_   
_and more so, the stone that no longer feels,_   
_for there is no pain greater than living,_   
_or sorrow greater than the conscious life._   
(Excerpt from “The Ominous”, by Ruben Dario)

**…ooOoo…**

Chapter 1 – Fall of the Griffin

**_November 3_ ** **_rd_ ** **_, 2149 – 8 days after the Fall of Mount Weather_ **

It took nearly six days for the _hurrkan_ to pass.

By the time it had passed over, buildings were demolished, trees were fallen, but her people – _all_ of them – still stood proud and immediately began to rebuild and repair everything. But that was only a fraction of the work that needed to be done; winter was coming, and food needed to be stocked in advance. Some crops had been lost, but could be traded from other clans. The problem was meat and leathers, and so hunting parties were sent out, which was why she was here.

She didn’t necessarily have to be out in the woods, but hunting with her First was always a welcome pleasure, rare as it was, so Leksa was keen to take advantage of such occasions when she could. As a plus, the memories of her training with Onya when she was younger were always brought to mind when she accompanied her General in her hunts. Even now, Leksa couldn’t help but soften her expression, something that Onya took notice of immediately.

“You enjoy this too much,” said her First with a roll of her eyes and in a hushed tone so as to not startle any nearby prey.

“I love Polis,” answered Leksa in a voice just as low, “but hunting with you will always have a special place in my heart.”

“Don’t let Titus hear you say that,” teased Onya.

“Spirits forbid,” said Leksa. “I would never hunt another day of my life if he had any say in it.”

Onya chuckled, hefting her quiver and readjusting the strap of the pack on her back. As they’d left Tondc before the sun had risen, it had been their plan to spend the next few days on the hunt to see what they could bring back, and so it was filled with some supplies for them to eat later that night. The one solitary guard of Leksa’s that Onya had insisted on bringing with them carried a similar pack with more supplies.

That being said, the pack Onya was carrying was not on the heavy side. The woman had yet to recover fully from her imprisonment in the _Maun-De_ , and it was the first time since the fall of the _Maun-_ De that Onya was cleared by the Skykru’s _fisa_ to hunt. As such, even though she knew Onya would never accept her help, Leksa’s fingers itched to take the pack away from her First and carry it herself, as the sun was beginning to set and they had yet to stop walking. Leksa sighed, knowing that Onya would be offended, rather than touched or appreciative, by Leksa’s concern.

Onya caught the sound. “I am fine, little one,” she said, surprising Leksa. “I will need to rest soon, but I am well. Calm your demons as I calm mine.”

Leksa nodded her head once, accepting the statement as both the comfort and chastisement it was. As the Commander, she was not supposed to express any form of emotion whatsoever, nor form attachments of any kind – the Commander’s life was a lonely one, or so her teachers had told her. And yet, Leksa couldn’t help but let the relief and joy in her heart lighten her step, in contrast to the constant pain and pressure of worry she lived with day-to-day. Onya had been freed from the mountain – and so she’d take her moment of good fortune. For her, they were as rare as a falling star.

Though considering how often _that_ was happening these days, perhaps the analogy fell flat.

Just then, the near-silence of the forest was broken by the piercing sound of a horn. Both women turned immediately to the sound – it was Leksa’s guard, calling them for a reason that neither knew but both dreaded. They were on a hunt; sounding the horn would startle whatever game there was in the area, so whatever reason for which the guard had sounded it must have been of the highest level of importance… or danger.

The two women didn’t even need to glance at each other before beginning to sprint in the direction of the call. Idly, Leksa noted that they were heading towards the now-empty Maun-De, which made her sense of dread increase. While they were at least a good day’s journey away from the giant tomb, the fact that they were headed towards it spelled a dark omen.

As the Commander of the Twelve Clans and the Tree People General approached the place from which the horn was sounded, they were met halfway by Leksa’s guard. Leksa’s keen eyes took his appearance in; the man was pale but unhurt, so whatever he saw either frightened or worried him enough to sound the horn.

“Danus,” said Leksa, pronouncing the name as if spelled _Daynoos_. “Explain yourself.”

“Heda,” he said. “My words would fail you. It is best if you see it for your own eyes.”

“Then lead us,” she commanded.

Immediately, the guard turned around and led them back the way he came from, Leksa and Onya following him closely. After a few minutes of running, the guard began to climb down into a lower valley that was thick with trees but had muddy earth, signs of a place where running water was common during the rains, perhaps even flooding. Leksa didn’t have to glance at her former teacher to know that Onya was memorizing the location as a potential place for crops in the future.

Passing particularly an area where there were heavy vines growing from the trees, the guard pointed ahead of them. “There is a clearing ahead,” he said. “That is where I saw…” The guard trailed off, shook his head, and went on ahead. Leksa’s frown was matched by Onya’s, but the two women followed regardless. They stepped into the clearing the guard led them to, and their attention was drawn to an unconscious stranger leaning on a half-broken tree.

When Leksa first saw her, she didn’t quite understand the significance of whom she was looking at, not at first. The bright blonde hair gave her a small clue – Onya’s hair was as bright as you would find within the twelve clans, other than perhaps Azgeda. _This_ girl’s hair was like a crown of gold, shining with a soft aura from the light of the setting sun. From what Leksa could see, the girl was in full armor except for her left arm and her head, all of it colored black and made of metal; for some reason it reminded her of the Skaikru’s Ark and their _tek_.

The girl was unconscious, her head leaning on her chest with her back to a tree, which looked as if the girl’s armored body had smashed into it; the wood upon which the girl rested was cracked and sunken in, making Leksa worry as to what could’ve caused such damage. Her eyes circled the clearing, searching for answers, and came across two things – a crude piece of metal more than five feet long that was sticking out of the ground on the opposite side of the girl, the earth around it scorched and blackened, and a helmet partially hidden by the foliage in between the girl and the metal. Leksa frowned at the metal – it had one end wrapped in leather that was significantly thinner than the rest of the weapon, which was at least a palm-and-a-half wide. Perhaps it was a makeshift club of some kind?

Next to her, Onya gave a quiet gasp when she saw the girl, and Leksa glanced at her in question. “You know who this is?” she asked.

Onya nodded, stepping forward and slinging her pack off, placing it on the ground as she rushed with care to the girl. “Sha,” she said. “In the Mountain, her mother, Skaikru’s Fisa, called her Clarke,” she continued, kneeling next to her and placing her hand on her neck, checking for a pulse, “But the title I gave her when she freed me from the Maun-De, was Wanheda.”

Lexa sucked in an audible breath. _This_ was the Black Warrior, the Shadow-That-Haunted-The-Forest? _This_ was the woman Lexa had heard so much about, in both exaggerated tales and truthful reports, the warrior that stood as tall as a man but had the strength of a _Pauna Gorra_ , able to throw a man more than fifteen paces away with her bare hands? This was the Warrior That Broke The Mountain, that freed Lexa’s people and the Skaikru from its clutches while butchering the Maunon? Lexa’s eyes were inevitably drawn to what she had confused as a club but now knew was the _Dargona_ ’s Blade – a sword that was as tall as a man, yet was wielded by Dargona with a single hand as if it had the weight of a knife.

And yet… for all that Lexa had heard, all the stories and reports shared one thing: the Dargona could not be defeated, could not be stopped no matter how many men fought her, as evidenced by her defense of the Skaikru children against an army of Ripa. She was unstoppable, unrelenting, untiring. So what could have caused this warrior to fall…? Leksa gave the blackened ground surrounding the sword a calculating look, but before she could continue on that train of thought, Onya called her attention.

“Heda,” she said, “She lives. Her heartbeat is strong, but I do not feel her breathing. We should take her to Tondc.”

Leksa frowned. “She has taken the lives of many of our warriors,” she said, her hand clenching the sword at her hip. “Jus drein, jus daun, Onya. We should kill her while we can.” She paused, the same sentence of _Blood Must Have Blood_ calling something to mind. “And yet…”

Onya returned the frown, glancing from her Commander to the warrior she kneeled next to. “I would agree with you, Heda,” she said, “but I owe her a debt of blood. She personally saved my life – not just from the Mountain itself, but from the Maunon. I led the troops inside Maun-De at her instruction, and the Maunon knew this. She took gunshots for me – twice, and I would have died both times had I taken them.” Onya gave her a look reserved for when she was going to teach Leksa a lesson, or remind her of one, in this case. “You know what that means.”

Leksa pursed her lips. A Debt of Blood was no laughing matter. Her people lived by the creed of “ _Blood must have Blood”_ , and most of the time it was applied for when lives were taken. However, it also applied for when lives were saved – if someone shed blood to save a life, then those who were saved owed their lives, or more commonly a favor of high esteem, to their savior, or the Blooded as they were referred to. If the Blooded was without life, then it was passed to their next of kin, or the Second, if applicable. What had Leksa frowning with reluctance was the other part of the pact – if the party who owed the debt had a Second, then they too, shared part of the debt owed to the Blooded as well, and as Onya’s former Second, Onya had the right to call upon _her_ favor in order to repay the debt owed to the Blooded. That the Dargona had saved Onya’s life, not once, not twice, but _thrice_ – twice from gunshot wounds, and once by freeing her from the Maun-De – made the situation that much more complicated.

And that without taking into account that Wanheda had also saved the lives of her people from the Mountain – meaning that every person saved owed a Debt of Blood to her.

Leksa was then struck by a new thought. “She is the one that maimed you in the Mountain,” she said, nodding at her First’s right leg, where her natural flesh ended just above the ankle and became metal and leather. Skaikru _tek_ , Leksa knew, that allowed those whom had lost limbs to regain them in another form.

Onya shook her head. “My foot was crushed by a closing door, as you know,” she said. “She freed me from the door, cut me free. It is still a Debt.”

Leksa sighed, closing her eyes as she thought the problem over. “Blood must have Blood,” she repeated. “The Deaths of our warriors have been repaid with the lives of those who were once lost to the Maun-De. Your debt will be repaid on your terms.” She opened her eyes, looking down at her former teacher. “Wanheda lives. Guard, remove her blade from the earth – Onya and I will carry Wanheda. We return to Tondc with haste.”

“Heda, it will be dark soon,” he said.

“I know this,” growled Leksa. “You will carry Dargona’s Blade and a torch of some fashion. We will rest when we arrive at Tondc.”

“Sha, Heda,” came the answer.

As the man moved over to the blade, Lexa walked to the helmet she’d seen earlier and picked it up, looking it over as she did so. She now understood why this particular helm struck fear into the hearts of her warriors. The back was rounded and silver colored, but the front was angular, with the helm wrapping around the back and converging in two straight plates over where the eyes and nose would be in the shape of a pseudo-horn; there were no slots or holes through which Dargona would see, so far as Leksa could tell. The area for the mouth was also covered while following the same angular shape of the upper “horn”, leaving the whole front of the mask without any way to breathe or see while making it looked as if it was horned.

Glancing curiously at some of the strange symbols painted on the bottom of the helm (the only one she could identify was a white colored bird of sorts), Leksa reached behind her for her pack and placed the helm inside of it; once her pack and the helmet were secured on her back she moved over to the unconscious Wanheda, kneeling on the woman’s right side.

“We should remove her armor before moving her,” suggested Leksa.

Onya glanced over at her. “We cannot,” she said. “Wanheda herself told me that it was a part of her – that without it she would not be able to live. She also said that even she didn’t know how to remove it.” Onya shrugged, returning her gaze back to the warrior. “I did not bother to ask beyond that.”

Leksa frowned at her friend’s answer before shrugging. “I defer to your knowledge,” was all she said. “When you’re ready, we will carry her.”

Onya glanced up at her Commander. “Together, then,” she said, slinging the unarmored arm over her shoulders.

“Sha,” said Leksa. Glancing at the strange armor encasing the arm – it was so form fitting, especially at the hand! If Leksa didn’t know better, she would’ve guessed that the metal _was_ Wanheda’s skin, perhaps it was _tek_ like Onya’s right foot? – she picked it up and slung it over her shoulder, bracing herself for the weight she was about to pick up, idly noticing that the arm was rather heavy.

“On three,” said Onya.

“One, two, three!” counted Leksa, standing up and carrying Wanheda with her – or at least attempted to. Surprised at the weight, Leksa and Onya found themselves floundering and dropping back to the ground, nearly dropping Wanheda in the process.

“Spirits above, what does she _eat_ ?” said Onya. “Armor alone could not possibly be this heavy! I’ve carried _panthas_ that are lighter than her!”

Leksa gasped, sharing in her First’s surprise. “Even a pantha could be carried between two,” she said. “We can share her weight. Once more.”

Onya nodded her agreement, and gave the count. “One, two, three!” she said. Leksa heaved, Wanheda’s armored arm rubbing against the back of her neck-

_-BODIES EVERYWHERE I SEE THEM ALL WELLS CHARLOTTE MY HANDS DRENCHED IN BLOOD I AM DEATH I AM LIFE IT HURTS SO MUCH-_

she could see them dying before her eyes, hundreds of people screaming as their skin began to redden and burst as if it was boiling, bodies lining the halls of a dimly lit tunnel and suddenly the mountain’s residents became grounders as she stabbed and cut into them, the army massacred by her

_-I’M A MONSTER I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS NO CHOICE NO FUCKING CHOICE I JUST WANT TO DIE PLEASE LET ME DIE THE DEAD ARE WAITING I’M SO SCARED-_

people in cages lining the walls, one person per cage, and there was fury and rage in her chest because she could see that their bodies were starved and their spirits broken, she came in here looking for her own people, she didn’t expect this

_-THE MOUNTAIN HOLDS MONSTERS AND I BUTCHERED THEM ALL HERE THERE BE MONSTERS I’M SO ALONE THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I HAD TO DO IT NO CHOICE-_

old man standing in front of her, his expression cold and immovable as he stared at her, telling her he would not stop his son from killing her people even as her mother was dragged onto the table and then _she_ was the one lying on the table, a masked man holding her beating heart in his hand

_-I DID IT SO THEY DIDN’T HAVE TO THEY’LL NEVER UNDERSTAND I FEEL ALL THEIR DEATHS WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH-_

little girl’s body was hanging from a tree, her face bruised and bloody while the crowd of teenagers roared their approval, her legs still kicking with life though getting weaker every second

- _I COULDN’T LET HER DIE I’M SO SORRY WELLS I’M SO FUCKING SORRY IT WAS MY FAULT I COULDN’T SAVE YOU I COULDN’T AVENGE YOU SHE KILLED YOU AND I COULDN’T LET HER DIE-_

blood was coating her hands and chest except it wasn’t blood it was water, the hurricane pelting her with heavy rains as she fell to the earth, stabbing her sword in the ground just like when she butchered the grounder army

_-WHY ME WHY DO I CARRY THIS BURDEN I DIDN’T WANT ANY OF THIS I DIDN’T WANT TO KILL THEM NO FUCKING CHOICE THEY TURNED ME INTO A MONSTER AND I’D DO IT AGAIN-_

she screamed, tearing off her helmet, she screamed and sobbed and yelled and howled her anguish to the darkened skies, she just wanted to die, to not feel this pain, to have it all end-

_-A FLASH OF LIGHT NO SOUND PAIN SO MUCH PAIN lightning it’s getting darker I don’t want to die alone-_

“LEKSA!”

Someone was screaming. She realized it was her when she fell forward, bile and vomit climbing up her throat and cutting off the sound with a choking gurgle.

**…ooOoo…**

**_June 17_ ** **_th_ ** **_, 2148 – 96_ ** **_th_ ** **_year on the Ark_ **

It all went wrong so fast.

Jake Griffin contemplated the past couple of weeks in silence as he thought over everything that had happened since discovering the Catastrophic Life Support System Failure. Saying that the events were complicated was an overstatement, but Jake had to take into account the personal stake he had in them above everything else. While even two days ago it had been the first thing on his mind, he didn’t care that the Ark was dying or that people would begin to die of asphyxiation within the year. He didn’t care that his wife had betrayed him or that his best friend had signed his death sentence.

All he cared about was that his daughter was dying.

As angry and hurt as he was with Abby, he was happily ignoring the small issue of her betrayal in exchange for hearing about Clarke. The accident that saved his life – or at least postponed his death – had come at the cost of his daughter having a close brush with death. Even now, Clarke was in a coma, and as morbid as it was Jake was glad that she wasn’t awake at the moment, that her waking was postponed for now.

Jake Griffin loved his daughter. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of, and she was the greatest thing he’d ever had a hand in creating – she was his pride and joy, and as a father he mourned the life that his daughter would lead as a cripple. It would be a hard life on the Ark – with the life support systems failing, Clarke’s life fell to the bottom of the pecking tree. If anything happened that would require a culling, her life, among others of similar situations, would be the first to go.

But Jake was an engineer – more importantly, he was a father. He’d be damned if he didn’t find a solution, a way to save Clarke’s life from the fate that she’d been forced into. He was in a cell that had a bed and nothing else, with no contact to anyone outside of it, but this suited Jake just fine – it gave him all the space he needed for his mind to come up with ideas.

And boy, did he hate the one he’d focused on. Unfortunately, it was the idea with the highest chance of survival for his little girl.

He had two priorities – Clarke, and his people. First and foremost, he had to save Clarke. The accident that had led to this situation had given him some time, since the explosion had damaged the airlock used for Floating. That meant that until it was repaired, nobody on the Ark was getting Floated, much less himself, and Jake resolved to take full advantage of the chance he was given.

And since he was the Ark’s Senior Environmental Engineer, he was the best person to solve the problem the failing Oxygen Scrubbers posed. Oh, there were others who were just as capable – his boss, Jacopo Sinclair, and that young mechanic who had some _serious_ talent in her (What was her name again? Raven Queens? No, Reyes) came to mind – but Jake had the advantage of over thirty, almost forty years of experience in this. He was _essential_ to the solution to the problem, and so that gave him a chance to appeal his execution.

But how did this all help Clarke? Quite simply, his connections. Sinclair for one owed him a favor, and Jake was not above blackmailing his former boss for the resources needed to save Clarke. That young mechanic, Raven Reyes, was smart enough to be able to help him in the assembly of the machine that would keep Clarke alive, and with her background Jake knew that she’d be willing to go through with the second part of his insane plan. Finally, his wife was the Ark’s Chief Medical Officer, and if there was somebody who’d be willing and was able to follow through with his plan to save Clarke, it was her.

But all this was only the first part of his plan to save Clarke. The second part was much harder, but he was an engineer – where others looked for problems, he found solutions. Saving Clarke’s life was his primary endgame, but it was one that he’d keep to himself, his wife and maybe that Reyes girl. The other plan, the public one, so to speak, would be his front to hide his efforts to save Clarke, and it was this plan that he’d bring to the Chancellor. He’d convince Thelonius Jaha to follow through with it, regardless of what it took. He knew he’d succeed, and his ace in the hole, his one game-winning play, would be Jaha’s son, Wells.

Jake nodded, his plans affirmed, and stood up from the bed he was sitting on, moving towards the door of his cell – he had a Chancellor to talk to.

**…ooOoo…**

Jaha’s expression of complete and utter bewilderment would have been comedy gold in any other situation when Jake had explained his plan. It took hours of arguing, but in the end, as Jake knew, Jaha had caved when he mentioned that his plan of sending One Hundred Prisoners of the Ark to the Earth would ensure that Wells would survive whatever culling that the Ark underwent in the future. It was difficult, and it was pretty amoral, but Jake felt as if the weight of the world was taken off his back when Jaha agreed to his plan.

Jake had been clear in his arguments. He was the best person to solve the situation, and while the catastrophic failure pretty much eliminated the option of repairing the scrubbers, he could find a way to buy the Ark some time – time which would be used to train the kids that would be sent down to Earth, and to prepare the dropship that would take them down. In exchange, he’d keep quiet about the Catastrophic Life Support System Failure, as long as Clarke was kept alive.

“I’ll give Sinclair the order to give you whatever resources you need,” said Jaha, the man looking as if he’d picked up the weight Jake had just taken off. Having Sinclair’s support was a surprise that Jake would happily accept – at least now he didn’t have to blackmail his former boss. Jaha continued, “Buy us some time, Jake. Save the Ark. Your daughter will live.”

Jake nodded, and after shaking hands with the man he had once considered his best friend (being sentenced to death put a damper on things like friendship), he walked right out of the office without a glance back. He had a daughter to save.

The first thing he did with his newfound freedom was to see Clarke. It was two days since the accident, and Clarke had yet to wake up, though his wife had admitted that she was keeping their daughter under on purpose.

“She needs rest,” his wife said as she stood next to him. Jake clasped his hand with hers, interlacing their fingers, and Abby gave him a sad smile, knowing without words that he was forgiving her for her role in his almost-execution. Her smile faded as she looked back at their sleeping daughter, lifting her free hand to wipe at the tears that began to fall. “But I don’t want her to wake up yet regardless. God, Jake… I don’t want her to wake up yet.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing her hand. After a nervous swallow, he asked, “What’s the full…?”

Abby never stopped looking at Clarke as she began to speak. “The fire gave her third degree burns on her entire right side. The tubing and steel beams caused the most damage though, crushing her knees when it fell on her and pulverizing her entire right arm. I… I had no choice, Jake. I had to amputate her right arm at the shoulder, as well as her right leg just from below her hip. Her left knee was completely crushed by the beam, along with everything below that, s-so I had to amputate that too… Jake- I-”

“You did the best you could,” he said, swallowing down his own tears. Next to him, Abby’s fell freely as she curled into his side, sobbing quietly. He hugged her close, drawing comfort from her as she did from him. “What came of the investigation?” he asked.

Abby sniffed as she spoke, “S-Sinclair said that it was caused by the maintenance airlock, the one used for the Zero-G mechanics. Someone took an unauthorized spacewalk, and when they came back in, there was a failure, an outer door breach.” She sniffed, shaking her head at the irresponsibility behind the incident. “The spacewalker used a manual override, and they were able to get back in, sealing the breach in the process, but it caused a spark in the oxygen filtration pipe that just followed the oxygen lines through to the Execution section, where it exploded…”

Jake winced, eyes never leaving his sleeping daughter. “She’ll get through this,” he said.

“Jake…”

“No, Abby, listen to me. She will. I made a deal with Jaha.”

A few months later, when everything was said and done, Jake would admit that convincing Abby to follow his plan was the easiest part of the entire process.

Later that day, Jake was walking through the corridors of the Skybox, a guard leading him. The guard stopped in front of a cell, unlocking the door for him, and after a nod, he stepped through, tablet in hand with information about the prisoner within.

Raven Reyes looked up from where she’d been sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. Her eyes were red, her face wan from crying, and her entire posture just screamed remorse. It gave Jake conflicting feelings as to the situation; while it was clear that she was feeling bad about the Spacewalk that got him in this situation, it was his daughter that got the short end of the stick. Reyes was a few days from her eighteenth birthday, which was the age of majority, so if he hadn’t come by, she would’ve been floated for her stunt – but Jake believed in second chances. He was alive and taking advantage of one, after all.

“Raven Reyes,” he said. “I’ve got a deal that you can’t refuse. Either you help me, or in a few days when you become eighteen, you die. What’ll it be?”

Reyes scowled up at him, her eyes lighting up with an inner fire. “If you think you can take advantage of me, you can go to hell,” she snarled at him. “I am _not_ doing some kind of stupid crime just because you think-”

“Your Spacewalk caused an explosion,” he cut her off. “That explosion cost the Ark six months of oxygen, which I know that you know, but more important to me is that my daughter was caught in that explosion. She’s alive, but she’ll live as a cripple, with no legs and one arm – unless _you_ do your part.”

Reyes’ face paled even further, her mouth opening and closing in an attempt to say something – obviously she hadn’t heard about Clarke, though few people did. “I- I didn’t- Oh _god,_ I didn’t mean- I didn’t know-!” Her words were a garbled mess as she stood up.

“It’s okay,” he said, softening his voice. “Well, not really. But I’m here because I believe that everyone deserves a second chance. I know who you are, Raven Reyes – you passed the Zero-G mechanic examination with a perfect score, but failed the medical evaluation because you have a heart murmur. Other than that, you’d have been the youngest Zero-G mechanic in fifty-two years.” Jake glanced down at the tablet. “Your file also practically sings hymns of you – you’ve got an IQ of a hundred and fifty two, along with an ego to match. Your instructors only have good things to say about you, and I know that Sinclair would’ve ignored the medical eval so that you’d be able to put on the space suit.

“And then there’s your psych eval,” said Jake, and began to read, “’An incredibly intelligent young woman, Raven Reyes is led by her strong will and compassionate soul. She is unafraid to break rules that she feels would challenge her to accomplish whatever goal set in front of her, and if she’s given an inch, she’ll go much farther than the mile – and proceed to hold it over everyone else’s head afterward with the biggest smile on her face.’ Quite the praise.”

Raven was smirking slightly by the time he was done reading, although her cheeks had a slight tint to them. “It forgot to mention my extreme beauty and charm,” she said.

“Right,” said Jake with a deadpan. “Raven, I’ll be honest with you – I need your help. I’ve got a plan that’s the craziest thing you’ll hear today, but I can’t tell you unless you agree to help me. I will, however, promise you that if you do help me, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that you’ll live a long and happy life with everyone you love. All I need is your oath. Please, Raven – help me save my daughter’s life.”

Raven said nothing at first, staring at him with an impassive expression. “Will I regret whatever I have to do?” she asked. “Will I be selling my soul by helping you?”

“No,” said Jake. “You’ll be saving a life, and by extension, the whole Ark.” Jake paused, considering his options before deciding on telling Raven about the scrubbers. Her knowing didn’t matter if she accepted his deal or not – she’d be executed in less than a week since her birthday was coming soon if she didn’t accept, and if she did then it was more motivation for her to help him. “The Ark is dying, Raven,” he said, lowering his voice. “We have maybe a year, tops. And that’s a number that could change at any point. Saving my daughter’s just one part of this whole thing – I’ve got an entire Ark of people to save too.”

Raven blinked, opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “If you’d led with that, I’d have said yes from the start,” she said. She held out her hand to him. “I’ve got someone I care about, so if you lump him in with your promise to me, you’ve got yourself a deal. What’s your plan?”

He shook her hand and told her. Within the hour she was surrounding herself with the knowledge she needed to draft up the first designs for Clarke’s prosthetics while cursing Jake Griffin with every insult she knew and could come up with.

**…ooOoo…**

As good a start as they had with their hidden project to give Clarke a full life, Jake felt that their progress seemed to trickle down to a near-stop after nearly a month and a half had passed.

Raven was a genius, there was no doubt of that anymore; during the first couple of weeks after her release the girl had _devoured_ various texts and medical papers on prosthetics and neural bridges, and when she emerged from her new workstation (courtesy of Sinclair at Jake’s behest) she had the first designs for Clarke. She and Jake had gone back and forth over them, modifying and changing things until they were both satisfied with the results. All that remained was for Abby to give her seal of approval.

Abby took one look at the blueprints and immediately questioned Jake. “Those are pre-war military grade augmentations,” she said, glaring at her husband. “Those are not prosthetics for civilians.”

“She’s going to Earth with the Hundred,” countered Jake. “I want her to have the best chance of survival she can have. If she has to be a walking tank-”

“I will not participate in turning my daughter into a weapon!” snapped Abby.

“She won’t be one,” said Raven, stepping forwards from where she was leaning next to the closed door that led out of Abby’s office. “The way I see it, I’m not going to build something for someone in a way _I_ wouldn’t want them to be built for me. It’s true that I’m using the chassis, muscle strands and outer shells of military-grade quality, but they’ll be built like if they were built for me.”

“Then what do you call this?” asked Abby, pointing at the hidden mechanism inside the arm.

Raven shrugged and answered, “A self-defense mechanism.”

“Self-de-! It’s a nanoblade launcher! It’s a weapon! And I’m _very_ sure that you’ve hidden a Tesla Energy Projector under it!”

This time, Raven grinned. “Awesome, right? The original design was kind of bulky, so it’s kind of a one-arm thing, but I managed to combine both systems into a single arm.” Raven crossed her arms smugly, ignoring Abby’s rapidly-reddening face. “Not that I’m surprised, I’m just that awesome.”

Jake sighed at Raven and how she was egging on his wife. Time to nip this in the bud. “Abby, she asked and I told her to do it,” he said, derailing his wife from her coming up with an answer. “Raven, explain the entire system to her – everything. Even the parts I don’t know.”

Raven rolled her eyes, letting down her arms as she picked up the tablet with the blueprints for Clarke’s prosthetics. “Doctor Griffin, there’s a major reason why I asked your husband about including these things in her prosthetics,” she said. “If Clarke needed just one limb replaced – a hand, a leg, or just a finger – none of this would be necessary, much less possible. I wouldn’t have needed those weeks of study to put together an arm for Clarke; hell, I could do it with everything you have here in the infirmary. One system alone is simple to add to the human body, but you know this already. I’ve seen John Cusack’s hand – you’ve done the procedure.”

Abby frowned, but nodded. John Cusack was a Farm Station inhabitant that got his hand crushed by a crate filled with produce that weighed a good ton. There’d been nothing of his hand that was salvageable, so Abby had given him the choice of leaving him with a stump or replacing it with a mechanical prosthetic. That had been almost ten years ago, and the man was still happily working with his new hand.

Raven continued, “The problem with Clarke’s system is that there’s a lot of them. The energy requirement alone to power everything would take more than just a chemical energy converter. I could modify one to power her right side of prosthetics, but then her left knee would be shot, for example. The same goes for any other combination you could think of. The whole thing has to be built and designed as a whole, like a single working system instead of a bunch of systems working in parallel, and that complicates things.” Raven shifted the blueprints on the tablet, where the different prosthetics were attached to a three-dimensional projection of a human body. She then zoomed in to the chest area, specifically the heart, which looked like a membrane of some kind had been twisted and wrapped around the organ.

Raven continued, “That’s when I found this: the Polaris Sentinel Series Health system. It’s experimental tech that basically works off of the heart’s movement in order to generate power, replacing the chemical energy converter with more efficiency and less risk of failure.”

“This is the first I hear about this,” said Abby, frowning.

“Same here,” said Jake. “Polaris? I didn’t realize that we had tech from the thirteenth station lying around.”

“Maybe not the tech,” admitted Raven. “From what I could tell, when the thirteenth station was shut down remotely, someone managed to hack into their systems and download part of their informatics network, which included a _lot_ of research on Biomechanical and Neurological implants. InfiniCorp was working on something big at the Polaris station, and it involved a lot of power generated by the human body. So maybe the tech didn’t survive, but the information and the research did, with nothing missing.” She glanced at Jake worriedly. “And I didn’t tell you because I figured it would be better to tell you both at the same time. At least that way you could cover each other’s bases and stuff.”

“…What exactly does the health system do?” asked Jake. “How does it work? How would it affect Clarke? Give me the pros, cons, anything you can think of, Raven.”

The young mechanic nodded. “The first thing you should know about the P-double-S Health System is that the entire body is affected by it,” she said. “It’s a high-energy device implanted on, in and around the human heart. It uses the heart’s movement to generate energy, like a freeloading electrical generator. Because of that, it generates a disturbing amount of heat and radiation that has long-term consequences to the organ itself; and that’s without including the strain it puts on the heart from a mechanical point of view.

“That’s the bad news,” said Raven. “The good news is that there’s a requirement in order for it to work, something called Nightblood Serum, which uses perfluorochemicals, oxygenators and nanomites to render a person completely immune to the radiation emitted by the P-double-S Health System itself. The Nightblood Serum itself is another InfiniCorp creation, though this one was made for a mining company that used to send criminals into hypersleep for long duration space missions; Nightblood was given to the criminals so that the solar radiation of space wouldn’t affect them.

“Nightblood would basically render Clarke immune to all of the negative effects that the Polaris Sentinel Series Health System would have,” she said. “The radiation would be nullified completely, and the mechanical damage would be repaired by the nanomites in Nightblood, keeping the heart completely healthy at a cellular level.

“The rest of her body would be affected as well by Nightblood. Nutrients, proteins, anything that the body needs, would be absorbed and carried with even more ease throughout her entire body – which, incidentally, would actually give the Chemical Energy Converter a good boost, but still not enough to power the entire system. If she has any children, they’ll inherit the Nightblood as well, along with all the goodies it has. She’d require less sleep, but she’ll sleep better and recover more as well. She’ll need less food, and her general health would increase as a whole. It’s pretty much the ultimate health boost.”

Abby gave her a suspicious look. “Then why haven’t I heard of it?” she asked. “Why don’t all of us at the Ark have Nightblood running through our veins?”

Raven grimaced. “Expense,” she said. “While the perfluorochemicals and oxygenators are pretty easy to get, the nanomites specifically are the expensive part of Nightblood, since they are the ones that force the bonding of the chemicals to the blood. The Ark isn’t equipped with the tech necessary to fabricate the nanomites.”

Jake frowned. “So why mention Nightblood at all?” he asked.

“Because I know where we can get the nanomites,” said Raven.

“Where?”

“Nightblood was made in space,” said Raven as she began to tap away at the tablet. “In fact, it was first used and synthesized by Doctor Rebecca Cerra, who was the founder and owner of InfiniCorp, and its space station, Polaris.” Raven set down the tablet, where a holographic image of a rotating space station was shown. “I’d bet my tools that the nanomites for Nightblood can be found at the station.”

“Or what remains of it,” said Abby. “Either way, we can’t access the station – Jaha would never approve an expedition of any kind to the station.”

Jake frowned, before he looked at Raven as his eyes widened in realization. “The scrubbers,” he said to her with an expression of awe. “Raven, you’re a genius!”

Raven grinned smugly in response. “I know,” she said. “You catch on quick.”

Abby glanced from her husband to Raven and back. “I’m not following,” she said.

Jake looked at her with a megawatt smile. “Polaris had its own set of Oxygen Scrubbers,” he said. “And since the Station was shut down in 2054, they have never been used.” Jake laughed. “Hell, I’m pretty sure that the station would have its own spares lying around somewhere in there! It would buy the Ark enough time to validate the trip! It’s the perfect cover – I take a team over to the station’s remains, pull out the scrubbers, and while we’re doing that Raven’s getting the nanomites and synthesizing Nightblood for Clarke! It’s perfect!”

Abby gnawed at her lip nervously. “And if the scrubbers aren’t working?” she said. “That station’s been floating in space for ninety-four years without any maintenance of any kind. Is it really worth…” She shook her head, cutting herself off. “No, of course it is. It’s for Clarke.” She looked at Jake with steel in her eyes. “Talk to Sinclair. If you can convince him, then convincing Jaha will be that much easier. I’ll talk to Callie – she’ll help bring Kane on our side for this expedition.”

Jake smiled widely. “Raven, get whatever you need ready for a spacewalk,” he said. “In the meantime, what can we do to advance progress on building the prosthetics?”

Raven returned his smile. “I’ll talk to my boyfriend, Finn,” she said, glancing at the tablet in her hand and beginning to write something on it. “He can get the materials for the muscle strands and the outer protective platings from Mecha Station and get them put together at Factory. I’ve got some friends in Tesla Station that can help me out with the membrane for the health system while not asking questions. Once I’ve got all that, I can grab the prosthetics stored away here in Medical and modify them on my own. All that would be left is putting them on Clarke.” Here, she hesitated before asking, “Speaking of… how is she, Doctor Griffin?”

Over the past month, Raven had spent a lot of time in the medical wing checking up on Clarke. She passed it off as her taking _very_ accurate measurements for the prosthetics (they needed to be designed to fit Clarke _perfectly_ – her pride wouldn’t let her build something lopsided or badly-measured for Clarke), but in reality it was to assuage herself of her guilt and to remind her of her fuck-up, of how taking such a stupid risk ended up hurting someone she would’ve liked to know. And then there was her third reason – the woman that gave birth to her wasn’t fit to be a mother, and Raven was quickly getting used to the Griffins’ presence in her mind as parental roles. Already she and Jake were sharing jokes rather frequently – she absolutely hated how much she ended up loving Dad Jokes – and while she still called Abby by her title instead of her name, she was still approaching the woman with a desire to please her in hopes of… well, she didn’t really know.

_God, my mother really fucked me up,_ thought Raven. _Stupid abandonment issues._

The woman sighed, running her hand through her hair. “Still heavily sedated,” she said. “Her brain took some damage in the explosion, so I’m keeping her in a coma until she recovers. Hopefully this miracle serum you found can help with that too, otherwise I doubt she’ll recover fully.”

Raven nodded, before reaching out with her hand and gripping Abby’s shoulder in reassurance. “I don’t know her, but I know her parents,” she said, removing her hand. “Clarke will be fine.”

Abby smiled at her in thanks, but didn’t say anything. Raven turned to Jake. “I’ll be getting some supplies ready for my spacewalk and talk to Finn while I’m at it. He won’t ask questions, I promise.”

Jake nodded once. “I trust your judgment,” was all he said, and with that, the girl turned to leave the office when Abby called her back.

Raven stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?” she asked, looking at the doctor with an impatient look.

Abby gave her a watery smile. “I know about your mother,” she said, and Raven froze. “And with everything you’re doing for us, for Clarke… Jake and I were talking, and we’ve decided that you’re welcome to stay with us whenever you like, Raven. Our door is open to you.” She paused, glancing at her husband and holding out her hand for him to take. Jake smiled at his wife, taking it, and then transferred that smile over to Raven, who was still frozen at the doorway and looking as if someone had pulled a rug from under her feet. Abby cleared her throat and continued. “Even if you only want to stay for a night, a week, or even for as long as you like… we would love to have you with us.”

Raven stood frozen for a few more seconds before tears welled up from her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She sniffled once, ran forwards, and hugged them both with a sound like a cross between a laugh and a sob, saying _thank you_ over and over again. Jake and Abby smiled at the girl, and accepted her thanks with happy hearts, content in the knowledge that they’d given Raven a gift that she truly deserved – a family.

**…ooOoo…**

Five days later, Thelonius Jaha had approved an expedition to the Polaris station, and a team of fifteen mechanics plus a stowaway departed the ark for the dead station.

**...ooOoo…**

 

 


End file.
